One Morning
by Tawnya Kisaragi
Summary: The perchance for getting into trouble was probably genetic. Jak's younger self certainly gave credence to the theory.


A fluff piece to prove that I could write fluff. This is both an aside to my AFF story _Love is War_ as well as it's own little stand alone. Fast rundown is Dax is human, Widgit is the name given to little Mar, he did not go back through the Rift Gate with young Samos, and the Precursor Stone broke to reveal a baby Precursor-ottsel (don't ask). This takes place somewhere between the second and third games.

~Tawnya

* * *

Evil Widgit peered down the hallway, trying to make a decision—did he stay, or did he go?

He wasn't supposed to go wandering alone in the Palace. Not that he _wanted_ to go wandering about or anything. Bad things had happened here. Things he only half remembered, that gave him nightmares. So he really didn't mind having to hold someone's hand while walking through all the humongous, never-ending hallways. Especially if that someone was Jak or Daxter, because he liked them best of all.

He giggled as a wet nose snuffled in his ear. Tiny blue eyes glared with indignation when he looked at the small ottsel draped over his shoulder. Jak and Daxter were the best of all the adults, Widgit amended. There was a pleased trill and a head rubbing against his cheek, earning another giggle. Kian (so named by the guy wore part of a tree on his head) was his special secret friend, someone he could play with and talk to and hold and who would never leave him alone ever again, even during the scary stuff…like big, deserted corridors the early morning light was just starting to brighten. And it was very early. Earlier than he ever seemed to manage alone, where the only people up were the nice lady who cooked in the kitchen and the big men who were supposed to protect everyone. The smart thing to do would be to turn around and go back to bed, curl up with Howl (his crocadog) and Kian and stay safe within the confines of his warm blankets until it was time for breakfast.

Except…Jak and Daxter had come back last night. After a very long week, they had come back from whatever important thing they'd gone off to do. Just as they had promised, they had come to see him as soon as they had returned. But it had been so late at the time that all there had been was a sleepy round of hugs. He'd missed them so much and he wanted to see them again, more than he'd wanted almost anything else. Just a peek, to make sure he hadn't dreamed the hugs like he dreamed about so many other things. Their room was only two doors down from his; that wasn't far. And he wasn't alone—Howl and Kian were there to make sure nothing bad happened. He could do this!

A whine broke his nerve. He looked back to see Howl gently tugging at the end of his nightshirt and scowled. He liked this shirt! True, it was so much bigger than he was that he practically swam in the excess material, but Jak had given it to him. Jak had _smiled_ and_ laughed_ when it had pooled around him, which was something the blond hero rarely did _ever_, despite Daxter's tales to the contrary. That made the faded blue shirt, rolled and stitched up so it fit some better, special. He needed to keep it nice.

Howl whined again, looking forlorn as the material slipped unharmed from sharp teeth. The pup looked back to the bed, then back at him, tail wagging slightly. The intent was clear, _come back to bed._ Widgit shook his head. Howl growled softly, ending with a light huff when Widgit reached out to pet him. The pout was obvious, but the crocadog dutifully pressed against his leg, peering out into the hallway with ears perked.

Despite having both Howl and Kian at his side, he couldn't quite muster the nerve to step out of the doorway. As badly as he wanted to see his other two friends, they had also been the ones to tell him not to wander about. Except he wasn't wandering, he reminded himself; he was just walking down two doors. He wasn't alone, so that wasn't a problem either. And he just wanted to see, to make sure they were okay. But they'd be so mad when they found him outside the room. He didn't want to make them mad. He wanted to see them so badly, though…

With a squeak, Kian slipped from his shoulder, sliding down his front in a mostly controlled manner. The ottsel still ended up in a small pile on the floor when it tried to jump and only two paws received the message to let go. Before Widgit could reach for him, Kian had righted himself and scurried down the hall. He stopped in front of the appropriate door, sat up on his haunches and chirped expectantly. It was a really loud sound in the otherwise empty space. Widgit tried to shush him, but Kian simply stared back, one soft orange ear twitching. He made a "come here" gesture. The response was a slow blink and a sharp shake of the head, though that may have been a quiet sneeze on the ottsel's part. A stamped foot and a demand were met with another defiant chirp.

Oh holy— He broke the thought off there; he wasn't supposed to swear. Daxter had been very specific about how old he had to be and the circumstances he had to be in to swear, and this wasn't it. Widgit glared at his friend. Kian yawned and idly scratched under his chin. It was obvious now that he had every intention of just sitting there. If Widgit wanted the ottsel kit back, he'd have to go down and get him. There was half a thought to just leaving the little furry deserter to whatever fate awaited him when he remembered the other thing Daxter had told him: _Rule One—you take care of your own_. And if Kian wasn't his own, then he didn't know what that meant. Actually, he really wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he assumed it was related to the way the redhead was always with Jak and vice versa, since that was when the phrase was brought up most.

There was a moment's hesitation as he glanced around nervously before bolting down the hallway. He was in such a rush he almost toppled right over the orange fluff, who squeaked when Howl did run into him. Widgit hushed them both before they could start snarling at each other. There was an anxious moment as he waited for the horrible something that always happened when he disobeyed…but the silence remained unbroken. He blinked and peered around. Still nothing. No angry voices. No pounding feet. No being pushed this way and that. Everything was as still and quiet as it had been when he'd first gotten the gumption to open the door and look out.

With a smug air, Kian climbed back up to his preferred spot, draped over Widgit's left shoulder, back paws braced against a hip because there wasn't enough room to cling comfortably to the shoulder alone. (Sometimes, he'd perch like that on Jak's shoulder if the larger man was just sitting around, but he almost always tumbled off once Jak began to move. Daxter would snicker when that happened even as he saved the baby ottsel from colliding nose first with the floor.) Widgit let him have the moment of glory; it had gotten them out of the doorway and over to where they needed to be. He was almost to his goal. Now it was just him versus the door.

Experience told him the handle would be just out of reach. He'd only gotten his bedroom door open by pushing a chair over to it. He couldn't drag a chair this far, however, not to mention it would be a complete giveaway to his disobedience. Maybe…if he stretched up on his tippy-toes, just maybe he could… Nope. His fingers didn't even come close to brushing the handle and he almost ended up on his backside for the effort. He stared at the obstacle, trying not to feel disappointed. In all his worry and want, he'd totally forgotten about the most crucial portion—gaining entry. Most of the doors were automated, depending upon sensors or timers to open and close. All the doors on this side of the Palace, however, relied on a different mechanism and physical force. He remembered the argument that had occurred when everyone was picking rooms. The guy with all the marks on his face, the one who wasn't The Scary One but was still pretty scary anyway, had wanted everyone to stay elsewhere. Jak and Daxter had both said things he wasn't allowed to repeat ever against the idea. In the end, they had agreed to disagree, whatever that meant, and the two heroes had staked out this room as theirs. It had made him all warm and fuzzy inside when he was allowed to room close to them.

So close, yet so very far. Widgit screwed up his face and his courage. He'd already come this far—he couldn't just give up now! He reached up, wobbling unsteadily as high up on his toes as he could manage. Howl gruffed and braced against his legs from behind, pressing and holding him up higher than he could manage alone. He stretched his hand out, still falling that little bit shy of actually touching. Kian then wound up his arm. Widgit twisted his hand so that he could hang onto the ottsel as it tried to leverage the handle down. For a few precarious moments, it didn't seem like it was going to work. His legs and arm started to ache as he tried to stretch out even further. Just a little more. Just a little more and…

…the latch clicked. The door swung open, causing the three of them to tumble in with a sharp yelp.

Two more thumps followed in the wake of his ungraceful entrance. He froze on instinct alone when the next sounds were the powering up of a gun and the scrapping of something metallic. There was a beat or two of silence, then an explosive curse the likes of which he hadn't heard in a while.

"Fuckin' sonuva—_Widgit?_ What the hell!"

Widgit tried to shrink into the floor as he stared up into two very angry yet also relieved faces. Jak was standing on the bed, a gun in one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. Daxter was crouched down on the floor with his knife drawn, still swearing under his breath as a hand raked through his hair. They both looked even more tired than they had the night before, hair mussed, ears flagging, and still half dressed. Daxter still had his pants on, but nothing else. Jak was down to a thin undershirt and his shorts. Their bed was in complete disarray with pillows and blankets thrown everywhere.

He bit the inside of his lip, struggling not to cry. They had every right to be angry, he reminded himself, to be disappointed. He'd willfully gone against what they'd told him and then awoken them with all his noise when they obviously needed peace and quiet. He should have stayed in bed, stayed where he'd been told to stay instead of getting worried and trying to find his own way. He wouldn't have made them angry. He wouldn't have gotten lost. He wouldn't have been separated from his father if he'd just stayed put…

"Hey, now." Daxter's voice had softened, which somehow only made it harder not to cry. Kian made a concerned noise when the tears started slipping down his cheeks and Howl whined, nuzzling against his side. He didn't resist when cool hands pulled him into a warm body, stroking his head and back. "S'okay, little guy. I promise. Ya just startled us, is all."

It was more than that, but he couldn't say the words. Even though he knew they would listen to him, that they would protect and care and be there if he broke his silence and told them his secrets, the words never came. All he could do was stand there and cry, hoping his apology would be accepted even though it couldn't be heard.

"…Did we really scare him that bad?"

"Naw, this is somethin' else. Pretty sure, at least."

A heavier hand came to rest of his head. "It's okay, kid." Jak's voice was soft and warm, soothing even though it was rougher than normal. "We know you didn't mean it. That you're sorry. No one's angry with you. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but it's going to be okay."

"Yeah," Daxter chimed in. "Everythin' always turns out all right in the end. It just ain't the end yet."

Widgit wasn't too sure about all that, but at the moment, he didn't care. He clung to the body in front of him and cried. Daxter curled around him, making soothing sounds similar to what Kian was making. Maybe it was because all the other times he'd cried, he'd been alone and this time, he wasn't. Maybe it was because after a few minutes, Daxter blew a raspberry on his cheek while lightly tickling his sides, causing him to hiccup and giggle. Maybe it was the way both Jak and Daxter looked at him with the same care and affection as they did each other when he shyly lifted damp eyes. Whatever it was, the tears dried up faster than any of the other times he'd tried not to cry.

The warmth that replace the ache diffused some when Jak yawned, which prompted Daxter to yawn as well. Before he could offer up another apology, the redhead had gathered him up and was standing. "It's too freakin' early in the mornin' fer this. You up for a few more hours of shut eye?"

He nodded meekly, fully expecting to be set down and lead back to his own room. Instead, he was taken back to the bed the two heroes had been sharing. Jak closed the bedroom door while Daxter reordered the bedding. flopping down dramatically. He rolled to find a comfortable position, then held his arms open. Widgit wasted no time curling up against him, pleased beyond words that he was allowed to stay. Jak picked up a snuffling Howl, placing the crocadog pup at the foot of the bed before crawling in on the other side. There was a little bit of shuffling around to get everyone situated comfortably, but they soon settled. Widgit remained tucked tightly between Jak and Daxter, both of whom had an arm wrapped him and each other. With little room to be had, Howl had curled up behind Jak's legs while Kian staked out a piece of pillow above Daxter's head.

His two exhausted friends fell back asleep almost immediately. Curled up between them, Widgit had never felt safer. He could barely remember a time when he felt so secure, always being shuffled off one way or another with people he rarely knew. This was the place he never wanted to leave, the place he wanted to stay forever, the only place he'd found that neither scared nor worried him while he was there. Cocooned in so much warmth and safety, Widgit made his decision. No matter what, he'd find a way to tell them. He'd tell them everything and anything they wanted to know, but most importantly, his name.

Because hearing them say his name was the only way to make this a better morning.

* * *

The end. TK'11


End file.
